


Dear Edward

by Esperata



Series: Arkham Correspondence [4]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Arkham Asylum, Guilt, Hallucinations, Letters, M/M, Self-Worth Issues, a lot of guilt, split personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Trying to navigate a new relationship while incarcerated in separate institutions is difficult enough without all the baggage that comes with Ed and Oswald's past. They are doing their best though.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Arkham Correspondence [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1355023
Comments: 87
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polgara6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polgara6/gifts).



> Riddler's speech is denoted with a strike through effect because it isn't verbalised.

_Dear Edward  
There was a fracas this week but you’ll be pleased to know I gave as good as I got._

No he wasn’t. Edward wasn’t the slightest bit pleased. That communication didn’t tell him anything. ‘as good as I got’ might mean they had matching bruises or wore identical stab wounds. It was only the existence of the letter in Oswald’s hand that told him it wasn’t worse. And what was the fracas about? Was it something unconnected to Oswald that he happened to be caught up in or a targeted attack? Had it left anyone with a motive for revenge upon him? How likely was a similar event to occur?  
Oswald didn’t say anything further about it.

_I worry about you there in Arkham._

And that right there told Edward rather too much. In those seven little words was the explanation of why Oswald was never forthcoming over the trials he experienced in Blackgate. He anticipated Edward’s mental collapse when put under too much strain.

“ ~~Can you blame him?~~ ”

Riddler’s voice caused Ed to grit his teeth in annoyance. It was hard to argue the case for your sanity when you were also dealing with an alternate personality jabbering in your ear. The other him was leaning over his shoulder looking through the letter for further clues to glean more about Oswald’s life. In that at least they were united. It had always been Oswald that bound them together best.

Ed wasn’t entirely sure whether it was his extended stay in this insane place that was feeding the distinction of his separate persona as his only reliable company or if it was merely his acclimatisation to the medication allowing him to regain strength. Either way, he was mostly just grateful to have a relatively sympathetic and supportive figure to hand.

Riddler’s finger suddenly pointed out a relevant line to Ed.

_The incident with the bird skeleton sounded disturbing._

“ ~~We never told him about that, did we?~~ ”

Ed pursed his lips as he recalled the details of his last missive to Oswald. Where Oswald’s letters noticeably lacked details of the dark goings on around him, Ed tended to cite various happenings, especially if they’d provided him useful insights or entertainment. In that regard the incident with the bird skeleton certainly fit the bill. There’d been a fight in the messhall – nothing in itself unusual enough to be of note – but one of the inmates had used the distraction to reconstruct a chicken carcass. From a puzzle point of view Ed had been impressed by the skill. On an emotional level he’d recoiled from what sort of mind would do that.

“No, we didn’t,” he concluded softly. The whole thing had frankly been too disturbing for him to want to tell Oswald. He’d ultimately dismissed the possibility of trying to befriend the individual upon discovering their otherwise infantile state of mind and had gained nothing practical from the experience. Just more bad dreams.

“ ~~Little Bird’s got another informant here.~~ ”

The tone was faintly admiring and Ed just knew if he cared to look that he’d see that curl to his lips indicative of amusement. Personally he didn’t see anything amusing about it. It was another sign that Oswald was reluctant to put too much pressure on him, even as a reliable narrator. Maybe even that Oswald didn’t trust the stability of his mind. That he viewed him as weak.

“ ~~You are weak,~~ ” Riddler agreed bluntly, “ ~~but that’s why you have me!~~ ”

His laughter echoed around Ed’s head and he twisted to glare up at him.

“ ~~Oh don’t give me that look,~~ ” he chided. “ ~~You know it’s true.~~ ”

“It is **not** true!” he hissed. “I got rid of Dougherty. I dealt with Jim Gordon. I played Butch for an absolute fool when he posed a threat to Oswald.”

“ ~~When you got jealous you mean.~~ ” Riddler rolled his eyes. “ ~~And who was it stopped you killing yourself in a wallow of self-pity? Who got Oswald out of Arkham and sat through torture for him? Who, to put it bluntly, has always saved you from your own worst impulses? Oswald has no cause to doubt my fortitude.~~ ”

It was an unassailable point as far as Ed was concerned and he focused on what he could do to change that.

“I need to even the score,” he decided. “Prove to Oswald that I’m not fragile. That I won’t break under pressure. That I can still be useful.”

“ ~~And how are you going to do that?~~ ”

Riddler had lent himself against the wall, arms folded as he smirked at Edward. Despite his posture though the tone was genuinely inquisitive. It was simply his default mode to appear arrogant and smug. Ed knew that and understood it for what it was; his own defensive strategy. Still, he glanced away as he pondered his options. Knowing it was unintentional didn’t negate the impact of that self-satisfied superior smile.

“I need my own source of information,” he concluded. “A resource that I can offer.”

“ ~~Which you’ll find… where?~~ ”

“The warden’s office,” Ed answered promptly.

He received a sarcastic clap before Riddler challenged him again.

“ ~~Good. So how are you going to get there? Without anyone looking over your shoulder as you ferret out information.~~ ”

“Besides you?” The riposte unsurprisingly drew no response and he carried on slowly as the idea fell into place. “The weekly emergency power checks. When everything switches across and back. There’s a brief interval when the system can be interrupted and it won’t recognise the change.”

“ ~~If you can pick the lock in the time, you mean? That could work. When the main power comes back it’ll think the circuit was disconnected already.~~ ”

“Exactly. Then I can slip out when the coast is clear, visit the warden’s office and look through his records without anyone being any the wiser.”

“ ~~A plan worthy of myself.~~ ” Riddler grinned.

The validation soothed Ed and he grinned back, pleased himself with the plan. He couldn’t hope to enact it yet however, and would need to secrete some sort of implement from somewhere to interfere with the locking mechanism. So for now he lay back on his bunk with his letter.

Despite always being sparse on details of his comings and goings, the one thing Oswald’s letters were never short on were his declarations of affection towards Ed. With anyone else he might suspect Os of being hyperbolic but by now he’d learnt better. After all, didn’t he already have the proof that Oswald was willing to die for him? Would unhesitatingly kill for him? Was ready to wait as long as it took for him? The man had overcome death in every sense due to his passion for him.

It gave Ed a warm glow as he read over the fanciful and flowery language, imagining Oswald’s voice as he did so. At some point in his distraction with the writing, Riddler had sunk back into his subconscious, now merely a spectator behind Ed’s own eyes, sharing his enjoyment of the waves of love flowing from the paper.

He pressed the letter to his chest, sighing in contentment at the sweetness of the passages before feeling the familiar pull of wistfulness. Though he was grateful to have these communications he couldn’t help but long for more physical interactions. It had been far too long since he’d felt Oswald in his arms and they still had yet to kiss.

A faint echo in his head queried whose fault that was and he released the letter to press his hands over his eyes, shoving the thought back as best he could. He knew it had taken him far too long to realise his love for the other man. Or to accept it at any rate. All his pretexts of betrayals and miscommunications didn’t excuse his own short-sightedness. That it had taken Barbara Kean of all people to force the recognition of what he’d desperately been denying on Oswald’s behalf. And the wasted time he’d spent burying every longing he’d felt himself…

With sudden determination he returned to his own response to Oswald, discarded as he’d perused again the letter he was replying to. He’d already shared what events had happened over the week and, having concluded there were no additional questions to be answered from his boyfriend, he filled the rest of the sheet with his own desperate promises of devotion. It was a continuing irritation that he had such short space to write but the guards were strict about limiting the inmates’ supplies of everything. Finally filling the last centimetre of the paper he reluctantly accepted that was the best he could do until the next time. Except for one final gift.

Oswald always sealed his letter with a loving kiss, the mark visible as a faint glisten when Ed tilted the envelope. He frequently imagined the way he’d coat his lips in balm first before pressing them firmly to leave such an imprint. Ed always kissed the spot himself before opening it and again when it came time to seal his own letter, immediately transferring his lips from one to the other in hopes of leaving a faint scent if nothing else. It was doubtful if any such effect would last the journey but he always wrote in swirling script across the place his lips had been, SWALK, and hoped Oswald felt the connection as he did.

With that done, and nothing else to immediately occupy him, he curled up back on his bed to hug the pillow against his chest and tried to fool his mind into thinking it was Oswald instead.


	2. Chapter 2

The plan was going like clockwork. Ed had opened the lock on his door at the perfect time to pass unnoticed by the security system and was now on his way to the warden’s office. Although he took care to watch and listen for guards he really didn’t expect to encounter anyone. They weren’t paid enough to be diligent in patrolling the corridors overnight. Not when they had a cosy office to watch the feeds from. Which meant all he had to do was time his journey to avoid the cameras.

It was at times like these that his belief in fate was reaffirmed. People often didn’t understand how a cold logician like himself could believe in fate but that was simply because they didn’t understand its true meaning. He wasn’t ascribing to some deity laying out a clear path. No. Fate was simply recognising the patterns of cause and effect in the universe and finding your objectives fitting in with them perfectly.

A case in point; this was the week when their elderly cleaning lady did her rounds along his corridor. Her hair was always put up in a tight bun, held firm with copious pins. One of which would inevitably fall loose somewhere and Ed had no trouble trading a portion of dessert for it. Most of the inmates had no use for such weak weapons anyway. It had so happened that this had occurred before the final collection day for this week’s post, meaning that Ed would have time in the morning to complete his letter to Oswald with, hopefully, some information from tonight’s sojourn.

Everything was coming together perfectly and he grinned as he finally slid into the security of the enclosed office space. There were no cameras in here to watch for and it was built centrally, with no outside walls, to make the room a highly defensible spot in case of a breakout. All of which meant he could relax and put the lights on with little fear of anyone noticing.

“ ~~You think they’d at least lock these records away securely,~~ ” Riddler complained as he cast his eye over the filing cabinets lining the wall behind the desk.

“They _are_ locked,” Ed pointed out retrieving the pin from his sleeve to jimmy it open.

“ ~~That doesn’t constitute a lock. A determined kitten could get in there.~~ ”

Ed found himself unable to argue with that as the drawer popped open with minimal coaxing. He scanned his eye over the file headings and frowned. These were just financial records for the asylum. Although Ed wasn’t entirely sure what he might find that would be of use to Oswald, he doubted this was it. He moved along and began checking the other cabinets. The next one had employee records but the two after held patient records.

“ ~~Do you think they have Strange’s experimental records here?~~ ”

“That was just what I was thinking.” Ed grinned and began riffling through, looking at the names for anyone familiar.

The first name that leapt out at him was Barnes, his former boss and he pulled the file out to leaf through.

“ ~~He’s dead. How useful could he be?~~ ”

Silently agreeing he shoved that one away and his eye quickly caught another familiar name. He couldn’t help but smile as he snagged it up and opened it, a sigh leaving his lips at the familiar adored face glaring from the page.

“ ~~O~~ s ~~w~~ a ~~l~~ d,” they both purred.

He decided to indulge himself with the record for a few minutes and turned to read through the compiled list of known crimes. It made him smile to recognise some of them and he enjoyed hypothesising about those he hadn’t known about. Then he flipped across to the previous treatment section and his smile disappeared.

He’d known Oswald had endured terrible things here, after all that was why he’d been so adamant about being tried as sane this time, but they’d never actually discussed what had happened.

“ ~~As I recall, you didn’t want anything to do with him in that broken state,~~ ” Riddler reminded him.

“I couldn’t,” Ed protested weakly. “He’d have spoiled my plans against Gordon. I meant to find him later.”

A non-committal hum met that. In the event neither could say what might have happened. Ed had wound up incarcerated himself and by the time he saw Oswald again the man was fully recovered. Still, he felt a renewed pang of guilt at the turn that part of their lives had taken. Especially knowing exactly what tortures he’d been put through.

Hastily he replaced the file and moved on. Oswald didn’t need information he already knew. Taking a deep breath to focus himself, he set about finding files on other known associates.

Crane was an obvious name and Ed read over his notes with some interest. There seemed to be a dichotomy within his life. The blind love of his father leading to unimaginable cruelty. An irrepressible fascination with fear born out of a paralysing subjection to it. It must make for an intriguing personality.

He also scanned through Kean’s file although everything there was too dated to be of much relevance. There was nothing that wasn’t already old news. A similar rationale prevented him from taking a look at his own notes despite a deep desire to do so. He couldn’t hope to find anything useful for Oswald there, given the fact that he knew that particular patient inside and out better than anyone else, and so it would be a purely indulgent waste of time.

“ ~~Perhaps once we’ve checked the last drawer,~~ ” Riddler proposed with equally restrained curiosity.

Ed bent down to slide open the bottom drawer and briskly looked through the names. The two Valeska twins stood out but he also spotted the file on Tetch and selected that first. Again he found the required mugshot looking at him along with the pages of criminal history, treatment notes and personal details. His eye ran down the list of crimes, memorising most of the information on autopilot before Riddler interrupted his flow.

“ ~~Wait. Back up. Which Founders Dinner did he hijack?~~ ”

It only took Ed a second to put together the dates with what Riddler was really asking.

“The one Oswald went to,” he confirmed before frowning in confusion. “I should have known this. Why didn’t he tell me?”

He looked in supplication to Riddler who pursed his lips as he brought the memory back.

“ ~~He said he was tired,~~ ” he answered pointedly.

Ed’s jaw dropped as the piece fell into place for him. He remembered helping Oswald dress for the dinner and then biding him farewell at the door before focusing on his date with Isabella. How they were later interrupted by an awkward looking Oswald, who had seemed unusually flustered now he recollected it. At the time he’d put it down to embarrassment. Now he knew better. And yet.

“Why didn’t he tell me in the morning? Or anytime the next day? Or _at all?_ ”

“ ~~Because he was more upset at losing you to Isabella,~~ ” Riddler snapped.

Edward couldn’t help but flinch at the admonishment. It was true though. He’d been so caught up in his whirlwind romance he’d not noticed what his best friend was going through. The man was held hostage and threatened but still cared more about his relationship with Ed. Who hadn’t even noticed anything wrong beyond his own blissful bubble.

“What else hasn’t he told us?”

“ ~~I don’t know,~~ ” Riddler answered honestly, and it was an indicator of how disturbed he was that he didn’t even call Ed on his redundant question.

“How can I treat him right if I don’t know what’s in his history? What if I hurt him again by talking about something that’s obviously a trigger? I need to know _everything_.”

They simultaneously glanced to the drawer Cobblepot’s file was in before both dismissing it. There was nothing on such an intimate level in there and he’d already uncovered the systematic abuse Oswald had endured in his time at Arkham. Edward could appreciate him not going into detail about that and could sympathise, having his own history of abuse to keep buried. But there was a difference between public acts of violence that could be referenced at any time and personal demons you learnt to trust others with.

“ ~~Let’s get back to our cell,~~ ” Riddler proposed. “ ~~Ask Oswald for a run through of such events.~~ ”

“Yes,” Ed agreed, hastily returning the filing cabinets to their pre-riffled state. “I’ll just explain why I can’t afford to be blindsided by such facts if we’re to work together.”

Riddler didn’t answer him which might have meant agreement or simply a wish to postpone the debate until they were somewhere safer. Ed hadn’t entirely gotten used to being on the same side with his other half so didn’t trust which it was just yet.

When they slipped back into their room however he found Riddler just as eager as him to press Oswald for details. Together they filled the remaining space on his page with questions and explanations of why he needed to know. Who had hurt him? When? How? Had he got revenge? Were there any grudges outstanding? Did he have any particular aversions Ed should know about? People he wouldn’t trust? And did that include himself? Was that why he had withheld these details?

The last part was impulsive, and he almost regretted asking at all, but once written he couldn’t bring himself to scratch it out. He needed to know. Oswald had said he trusted him once but they’d been through a lot since then. Was it still true? _Could_ it be true?

With no more space to pour out his anxieties he retreated to his bunk and pulled his pillow, the only comfort he had, to his chest. The remainder of the night he sat there rocking gently and staring at his letter, willing it on his way so he might have hopes of an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Whereas Edward was restricted to writing one letter per week, and that only to the length of one page, Oswald had far greater resources and was able to write every day, if he chose, and for several pages. He’d clearly wasted no time upon receiving Ed’s anxious message and had written back immediately with reassurances. The tone of which suggested that he’d probably come across as a little frantic and managed to worry Oswald. It was something he’d have to watch for in future. When he wasn’t still so tense.

To hopefully ease his tension then he’d latched onto the latter immediately, desperate for answers. Unfortunately Oswald’s method of soothing Ed’s troubled spirit wasn’t the list of confidences he’d initially hoped for. It seemed all his agitated delving into history had done was make Oswald apprehensive about their new understanding.

“How can he say it’s all water under the bridge? Best forgotten?”

“ ~~I believe that’s in reference to Isabella,~~ ” Riddler opined, gesturing to a particular point.

_I must have caused you so much pain by my blind selfishness, to incite our terrible cruelties to each other._

“ ~~He’s naturally concerned about digging up old grievances. Perhaps we shouldn’t have mentioned her. Did we ever tell him we were over that?~~ ”

Ed didn’t answer, partially because he wasn’t entirely sure they had, or if they had whether he’d been explicit enough about it, but also because he was absorbed in the rest of the missive. Riddler was right that Oswald’s tone was apologetic, as if he still felt Ed harbored resentment from that episode in their lives. It was true that his subterfuge then had played a starring role in Ed’s subsequent sense of betrayal but he had not meant to reference that now. He’d only cited the woman to indicate the point at which their shared knowledge could be assumed to diverge.

His sole concern about concealment now was because he wanted to support Oswald in every way he could. Oswald however seemed distracted by their own history and, instead of filling Ed in on what he didn’t know, was clearly arguing that their balance was equal. Citing the many actions he had taken for Ed’s benefit since that fateful schism formed between them, despite acknowledging that he couldn’t be sure of the pain Ed must have felt over events and thereby utilizing his best guess.

_I have hope from our conversations prior that my actions born of jealousy are repaid now._

It was a redundant statement as far as Ed was concerned. Oswald had more than repaid any hurt he’d caused. Memories arose unbidden of Oswald screaming his name and flattening him down away from the grenade blast. Of ruptured skin and the ruination of his beautiful eye. Edward swallowed back an uprising of bile. If anything their debts were now reversed but Oswald gave little attention to Ed’s wrongs.

He brushed briefly over what Ed supposed he considered the more painful betrayals on Ed’s part, albeit countering them swiftly with his redemptions. The abandonment of Oswald for Lee raised with the comment of his subsequent enjoyment of their collaboration in the plan to escape Gotham. The repeated attempts on his life, tinged with what Ed thought must be a hint of reproach as he pointed out – _starting from the initial disappointment when I failed to die in repayment despite being shot and dropped in the river_ – were then added to by the remembrance of Riddler stoically facing the Dentist to protect him.

The only one he genuinely noted as leaving a permanent twist of pain, although he was quick to state he understood his own actions probably caused a similar discomfort to Ed still, was the use of his father’s corpse in the scheme to break his mind.

The reminder of their whole sorry history, laid out in such forgiving and non-aggressive terms, almost broke Ed’s heart to read. Each understated reminder of his own callousness a painful stab in the guts, stoking his own frustrated desire to protect Oswald from further harm at all costs. How could he even think they were even? They’d never be even after every sacrifice Oswald had made for him. He’d be dead at least twice over if it weren’t for him.

“ ~~Love is about sacrifice,~~ ” Riddler voiced Ed’s thoughts with an air of ironic fatalism. “ ~~It’s about putting someone else’s needs and happiness before your own.~~ ”

Eventually, and almost as an afterthought, Oswald offered a few examples of past injuries from other quarters, probably sensing that Ed wanted reassurance that he knew the worst abuses he’d suffered. Or at least that he’d perhaps be reassured by knowing he wasn’t the only one to have targeted the Penguin over the years. Certainly they were relayed in a dismissive fashion indicating he thought Ed knew the particulars already. To his relief Ed did find himself recognizing them and they were tallying up with his own mental list of injustices against Oswald.

The beating from Fish, not only revenged but also forgiven. Galavan and his sister’s kidnapping and murder of his mother, again amply revenged if still bitterly resented. Jim Gordon’s persistent unappreciative cruelties… those could still stand some getting even with.

Ed found himself calming at the concise list, able to catalogue and confirm each item. That was until a particular point struck him in the face and his brain screeched to a halt even as his heart thundered.

“He was dosed with Scarecrow’s fear toxin?! When did that happen!?”

“ ~~He says opening night at the Iceberg Lounge,~~ ” Riddler read out before frowning. “ ~~Which would have been when we were on ice.~~ ”

“So we were right there? Literally powerless to help?”

“ ~~That wasn’t our fault though was it?~~ ”

“Yes it was,” Ed countered agitatedly. “If we hadn’t tried to shoot him again he’d never have frozen us. What were we even thinking?”

Riddler gave no answer to that and simply studied the text again.

“ ~~What do you think he saw?~~ ”

“I have no idea.” Ed’s gaze dropped back to the letter too but saw nothing extra to what Riddler had seen. “Perhaps the ghost of his mother again?”

“ ~~Or his father,~~ ” Riddler seemingly couldn’t help himself from adding and Ed let out a whine. Plunging his hands into the stringy mess of his hair he pulled sharply.

“Oh god. What if he relived the trauma I put him through?”

“ ~~Well, it’s no good guessing.~~ ”

“But I need to know! What if there are lingering effects from Crane’s toxin? What if he’s developed a paranoia and I say something that sets it off?”

“ ~~He won’t tell us. Whatever it was would likely be too personal. Too private. And he wouldn’t want to make us feel guilty if it was based on something we’d done.~~ ”

“I need to go back to the files.” Ed began to pace the small room. “Read the reports on the incident.”

“ ~~There wasn’t anything in the files,~~ ” Riddler reminded him. “ ~~You read them both.~~ ”

“Why not? Surely it should have been in Scarecrow’s criminal history?”

“ ~~You know why not. His first crime was against the people who kidnapped him for his father’s toxin. _They_ were the ones who attacked Oswald in the Lounge.~~”

“I’ll kill them all.”

“ ~~I think Scarecrow already did that.~~ ”

Edward came to a stop, staring at Riddler across from him.

“Strange,” he announced.

Anyone who wasn’t sharing mental synapses with him might have misconstrued that solitary pronouncement but, not for the first time, he was grateful to have Riddler following his thoughts easily.

“ ~~You think he might have been studying the formula?~~ ”

“Why not? He must have researched a range of disciplines to create all his monsters. Surely he’d have done some studies on Crane’s formula? Perhaps even uncovered how it locates the appropriate memory center to draw out someone’s fear.”

“ ~~Whether it goes for recent traumas or suppressed memories,~~ ” Riddler concluded before cautioning. “ ~~You know the warden won’t have Strange’s notes.~~ ”

Ed knew of course but he still bit his lip as the understanding washed over him.

“We’ll have to go to the basement.”

“ ~~The police would have cleared it out.~~ ”

“Do you really think so? I can’t imagine Professor Strange kept all his notes in a filing cabinet. And can you see the police managing to locate a hidden safe?”

The prospect of the GCPD bumbling round and missing the obvious right under their noses was making Edward smirk and made Riddler grin.

“ ~~Then I guess we’re going on a treasure hunt.~~ ”


	4. Chapter 4

The route down was exactly as he remembered but the place felt even more isolated than ever. At least last time there had been people in evidence. Now there was just an echo of inhabitancy.

Someone had obviously thought to save power by cutting off the supply down here but no-one had considered it necessary to disconnect the emergency lighting so everything was lit with an eerie glow. Enough to see by but not enough to be sure you were seeing everything. As he walked along the main corridor, past all the open cell doors, it was hard to remind himself they were empty. He wasn’t sure if being used to hallucinations appearing from his peripheral vision made him more or less likely to imagine figures of out shadows.

Even his logic couldn’t reliably help him. Not knowing the types of experiments Hugo Strange had conducted here who was to say there wasn’t some specimen designed towards camouflage in the darkness? Or whether a creature could survive unfed for the period this place had been abandoned?

“ ~~Absence of evidence is not proof of absence.~~ ”

“Not helpful,” he snapped before taking a calming breath. “Besides, there’s no call to believe in something without evidence for it.”

He pressed on, focusing on keeping his steps even and trying not to listen too hard for discrepancies in the echo. Sounds were muffled strangely as they got trapped in the padded rooms he passed.

“ ~~Could someone conceivably control sound waves?~~ ”

“What?”

“ ~~They’re a physical force through the air. Theoretically they could be tampered with and redirected with sensitive enough equipment.~~ ”

“Stop distracting me! Why would anyone even do that?”

“ ~~Perhaps to store the energy to be released en masse later?~~ ”

“That’s… not important right now.”

They fell silent and Ed finally reached his destination. It was a relief to enter Professor Strange’s private chamber, even if it was littered with the remnants of utensils he used for his experiments. Ed was no stranger to forensic apparatus and found the sight oddly comforting. It was familiar. It was also irrelevant to what he was looking for and he turned his gaze to the walls and fixtures that might conceivably hide his research notes.

It was impossible with the dull lighting to make out enough to discern any hints of a secret panel or opening however so he resolved himself to a more hands on search. He was only half way along one wall when a sound froze him.

“What was that?”

Riddler was over guarding the doorway and he cast a curious look over at him.

“ ~~What was what?~~ ”

Ed hesitated, unwilling to reveal his jumpiness by confessing he thought he’d heard laughter. Not when Riddler had obviously heard nothing. He shook his head.

“I thought I heard something click.”

“ ~~Probably mice.~~ ”

They each returned to their designated tasks, although Riddler threw the occasional glance floorwards as he watched for rodents. Ed did his best to pretend the sounds he could hear were either scuttling paws or water gurgling in pipes. It disturbed him to think he was imagining them but he didn’t want to think they really were other voices. Not if Riddler didn’t hear them as well.

He was grateful when his fingers finally sensed an indent and a firm push popped a hidden drawer out.

“At last.”

His exclamation brought Riddler over to share in his discovery and they both glanced through the various files they’d found. There were several names he recognised; Fish Mooney, Victor Fries, Theo Galavan, Bridgit Pike, Basil Karlo…

He winced as he read the last name and his memory flashed back rather vividly to his dealing with the shapeshifter. The perfect mimicry he’d performed of Elijah Van Dahl. The sheer terror on Oswald’s face at the sight of him. A scream rang out and for a second Ed didn’t know if it was external or him, either in his mind or from his lungs.

“ ~~Ed? Ed! You’re getting lost in a memory. Focus.~~ ”

Turning slightly he saw Riddler’s anxious gaze and wondered if it was reflected on his own face. Regardless, the reminder of his company helped draw him away from his thoughts and he nodded slightly before looking back to the papers in hand.

“Um. There’s no file on Crane.”

“ ~~Maybe they used his toxin on one of the other test subjects?~~ ”

Taking a calming breath, Ed put aside the files on people he knew and looked instead at those he didn’t. Some just had numbers and he wondered if those were the failures. A few had names and he focused on them first, scrolling through the unfamiliar people for anything that stood out.

“ ~~Lisa Bale?~~ ”

The unexpected tone of interest halted Ed’s dithering and he glanced to his alter ego for any indication of why that name should have caught his attention. He looked entirely too anxious for comfort although he threw on a disarming smile as he caught Ed looking.

“ ~~It’s probably nothing. We should look through the rest of the list first.~~ ”

That was suspicious enough for Ed to shove the rest of the papers back in the drawer and fix his attention on the one that Riddler had for some reason picked up on. A mention to the Court of Owls immediately drew his eye and he zeroed in on that section first. It seemed this creation was specially ordered to be used in their mission to keep control of Gotham. A simulacrum to act as a distraction. Hugo Strange had added a note that this complimented his own desire to create the perfect human chameleon and made reference to another experiment, subject 514A, which used a similar procedure.

“ ~~Perhaps we should look at that file? Get an idea of what process that entailed.~~ ”

“I’m not done here yet,” Ed muttered and turned the page to see subject’s details.

No sooner had he done so than he dropped the file with a horrified gasp.

“That’s… oh my god!”

“ ~~Ed. Breathe.~~ ”

“No. That’s… Isabella! Lisa Bale… oh god… you knew. You saw it at once. Why am I such an idiot?”

“ ~~Calm down. You’re not an idiot.~~ ” Riddler winced to say it but persisted. “ ~~Obviously she was designed to be the perfect distraction for you.~~ ”

“I never even suspected.” He curled his fingers into his hair and pulled harshly. “Of course she was too perfect. Why didn’t I ever even think? Oswald… Oswald must have seen her for the threat she was. And I… I was so blind!”

“ ~~I doubt Oswald suspected _this_ ,~~” Riddler countered. “ ~~He was just jealous.~~ ”

“But _I_ should have seen the signs. I never even questioned her appearance.” His eye fell on the incriminating evidence again. “Oh god. I _shot_ Oswald! For a fake person! I played right into their hands!”

“That you did sweetheart.”

Ed swivelled with a gasp to stare horrified at the new person in the room. Some terrible amalgamation of Kristen and Isabella, hair a mishmash of red and blond, creating an impression of blood staining the strands, with purple bruises vivid on her neck and face brutally ruined down one side.

“ ~~Ed? Ed, what are you looking at?~~ ”

The devilish apparition smiled sweetly at Riddler, who was looking anywhere but straight at her.

“He never saw me as you did,” she murmured, “but then he never wanted the life I offered.”

As she moved past the oblivious half of him still staring blindly, Ed shrank back away from her.

“But we can still have that life, sweetheart. You can join me forever and everything will be perfect again. Just as it was.”

“No, no, no, no, I don’t want that. I don’t want you. I want Oswald. Oswald!”

“ ~~Ed. I don’t know what you think you see but there’s nothing there.~~ ”

She reached out a hand to cup Ed’s cheek and he gasped at the icy chill that emanated from the touch. He felt he couldn’t move suddenly. Hypnotised once again by the woman before him and terrified to his very core.

“ ~~Sorry in advance,~~ ” Riddler announced briskly, his face swimming into focus in front of the Kristen-Isabella creature before shoving Ed’s consciousness down and seizing control of their body.

Now in the driving seat he could feel the flood of fear pumping through the veins and it took a determined effort to cling to his focus of getting them the hell out of there. Ignoring their objective he instead utilised the adrenaline to propel his long limbs back down the corridor and into the old service elevator. Once set on the ascension back to the surface though even he couldn’t subsume the chemical reaction any longer and he collapsed into a corner, shaking all over.

By the time the lift had deposited them back on the main level clear thinking had deserted them and he could barely crawl out to curl up on the floor, ready to be found by the cleaners in the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Edward_

_I am writing in a state of some anxiety, having heard that you are in the infirmary but with no-one able to give me a reason why. They say you were found in a bad way but I do not know in what manner. Are you sick? Injured? Did someone do this to you? Is it a result of my last letter?_

_Thinking on it I fear my last letter raised too many bad feelings from our past. It was foolish of me to reiterate grievances that are best left forgotten. But I wrote in haste and spared no thought as to the consequences. It is always my failing that I act on impulse and unintentionally hurt those I would wish to protect._

_It seems most likely to me that this is what has happened now. In seeking to assure you that I bear you no grudge I have perhaps reminded you of the valid reasons you had for yours. My crime against you is, I know, one I can never correct._

_If you have reconsidered our relationship, I will obviously respect your decision. Please believe that I have learned my lesson over pushing my presence upon you, though I cannot refrain from interfering when you are threatened, as I worry you are now, but please recall that I will not expect an acknowledgment in return. Your continued wellbeing is sufficient._

_I would ask though, please do not stop writing to me. Your friendship is still the most valuable thing in the world to me, especially now I am confined here at Blackgate. You had given me reason to suppose, before the consideration of changing the nature of our relationship came up, that you too found our correspondence beneficial. I hope that might still be the case and that perhaps this letter will be welcome._

_There should be some biscuits accompanying this. A gift that I hope will make you feel better. It is in no way a bribe. Just what anyone staying within a hospital environment should expect from a friend. Although they were a bribe when they were proffered to me. People here have been quick to recognise my susceptibility to sweet treats and I confess I have rather more of them than perhaps I should. It is no bad thing for me to both reduce my intake and share the generosity with you._

_Although I naturally worry about the fact of you being incarcerated among mad people, I am comforted by the knowledge there is no-one so well disposed to manipulating such a situation. You have a true gift for pinpointing the habits, mannerisms and weaknesses of those you come into contact with. There is no doubt in my mind but that you have already used such knowledge to your advantage to hopefully procure your own special treatment._

_Did I ever tell you how impressed I was by your integration into the Narrows? A notoriously difficult territory to gain influence in and yet you made it look easy. Albeit at my expense. And I admit I found that infuriating at the time. Looking back on it though, I like to feel it perhaps reflected upon my own notoriety as well. And you did all this while suffering a severe handicap in your mental abilities._

_That’s a sensitive topic though I am sure. Were you aware of anything during that time? Apologies. I should perhaps say nothing more. And yet… I talked to you often those nights. I am sure you remember how I spoke to my mother’s statue. Another person gone from my life before I was ready. It was why I couldn’t simply kill you. I still needed you, as I do now. As I probably always will._

_This is nothing you wish to be hearing about now however. If there is anything I can offer that will be of help, know that you only have to ask. I have certain liberties in my communications with outside agents and Arkham have been reasonable in the past when approached in the right manner. Any comfort I can arrange for you will be done without hesitation._

_I hope you will write back as soon as you are able and give me clarification on what I need do to make you happy. Even if that means no communication for a time. In the meantime I wish you a speedy recovery from whatever ails you and entreat you to take care of yourself. Arkham may not be the den of horrors it once was but it is by no means a safe environment._

_All my love,_  
_Ever yours,_  
_Oswald_


	6. Chapter 6

“ ~~We should reply to Oswald. At the very least to tell him about _her_. He still feels guilty. He needs to know we’re grateful for what he did.~~”

Ed lay listlessly on the hospital bed, one hand loosely clutching the letter to his chest.

“I was an idiot.”

“ ~~Duly noted. But we still need to send a reply.~~ ”

“I don’t deserve him. He should have someone capable of supporting him not an emotionally incompetent fool like me.”

“ ~~What you _deserve_ ,~~” -Riddler said emphatically, stepping forward to loom over him- “ ~~is i _rr_ elevant.~~” The curled r told Ed he was in shit with his other half. “ ~~Oswald wants you. Nobody else. _You!_ The least you can do is pick yourself up and try not to be such a pathetic burden!~~”

For the first time in days Ed found the will to fight against his apathy and the tranquilising medication the doctor’s had filled him with, having found him irrationally raving about ghosts. Pulling himself semi-upright therefore he tried to focus properly.

“ ~~Good.~~ ” Riddler stepped backwards, symbolically deferring the next action to him.

Taking a deep breath, Edward looked again at Oswald’s letter. The mental unravelling he’d just gone through meant he’d yet to memorise it, the words insistently swimming in his head instead of setting firmly.

“We have to tell him I’m alright,” he stated. “That it was a temporary disruption of faculties. Nothing permanent.”

“ ~~Yeah. And that there’s no need to rethink our relationship. If anything we love him better now.~~ ”

“You think we should tell him about our trip to the basement? About Isabella?”

In lieu of answering Riddler strode forward to point to the relevant line.

_My crime against you is, I know, one I can never correct._

“ ~~We have to tell him he did the right thing. That she was one of Strange’s creations. That he _saved_ us. Again.~~”

“Granted,” Ed allowed, “but if we tell him we were gathering information that he was withholding and it led to us being hospitalised then he’ll probably be even _more_ reserved in what he tells us.”

“ ~~Why? Surely it would show him it’s better for us to hear things from him.~~ ”

“Or it will confirm his belief that I’m not ready to deal with all the horrors and bringing them into the light will only hurt us. He says himself he regrets mentioning anything. He’ll tell us not to risk my mental health again.”

The lack of an immediate answer showed that Riddler couldn’t refute the possibility at the very least. Ed returned his attention to the words in his hands as the other him thought it over. He found himself smiling as Os admitted talking to his frozen self.

“Did we ever tell him about the drugs? The hallucinations?”

His mind couldn’t help but vividly recall an intimate red glow… a top hat and tails… a crooning voice…

“ ~~Briefly, but not with any specifics,~~ ” Riddler recalled. “ ~~Perhaps it would reassure him to hear about that.~~ ”

A slight curve to his lips indicated he too was envisaging the same memory as Ed in that moment. Ed hummed lowly in acknowledgement, already contemplating other ways in which he might convey the sincerity of his continued devotion when he wrote. How Oswald could even think he was in any way still falling short in the balance of favours owed was ridiculous. He had a good mind to list them precisely, from the visits during his first stay in Arkham, through all the times he’d literally saved his life up to and including losing an eye for him.

As he saw it the balance was decidedly skewed the other way and that would not do at all. Riddler had put his finger on it; he needed to prove that he wasn’t a pathetic burden. Which admittedly was easier said than done if his recent excursion showed anything but was still necessary if they were to have a true partnership with Oswald. One where he didn’t need to worry about him all the time and could in fact rely upon him for support when he needed it.

“We have to find a new source of information,” he decided.

“ ~~What?~~ ” From his tone Ed could tell Riddler had been drifting down a very different thought path. Probably equally focused on Oswald but less self-pitying and more self-indulgent.

“Oswald has informants of some type here,” Ed explained. “He says as much. But they’re also not giving him all the information he would like. Perhaps because they don’t know, don’t care to find out, or simply don’t want to share.”

In some ways he was merely opting to backtrack to his first plan regarding Oswald’s letters but it felt good to retrace his steps and attempt this again, hopefully getting it right this time around.

“ ~~Fair,~~ ” Riddler conceded. “ ~~How do you propose we remedy that?~~ ”

For a moment Ed was surprised to have the solution asked of him but then he saw Riddler’s face. It bore a teasing grin showing he already knew and simply wanted Ed to step up and take control.

“We sneak into the guards’ room,” he proposed immediately. “They have news from outside available and more importantly connections with the guards of Blackgate.”

This last titbit he’d gleaned from prisoner transfers he’d heard of through the years. Both facilities needed to have clear consistent communication to ensure no disruptions went under the radar during the procedure. Getting his own pipeline to news at Blackgate seemed only fair in the circumstances.

Riddler tapped a finger over his lips as he pondered the answer. It was precisely what he’d have suggested himself but he was still in deliberation over the next stage.

“ ~~Should we arrange a distraction? A riot to lure the guards away?~~ ”

“We could…” Ed paused as he ran quickly though the pros and cons. It would cover him quite nicely and he knew several inmates who’d be more than willing to help with such a disruption. However it wasn’t a long term solution if he wanted to maintain a flow of information. “Or we could sneak in when the night guard goes for their patrol.”

“ ~~More risky,~~ ” he was countered immediately. “ ~~And it would only give us a small window of time.~~ ”

“A small period repeated over time though,” Ed argued. “And given I’d have a week to gather information before each mail call, I’d say it was the better option.”

“ ~~Fine. We can always save the riot option for emergencies.~~ ”

Nodding his agreement, Ed returned his gaze to the letter and felt his emotions well up again. He had caused his little bird so much pain through the years. It was going to take a long while before his debt was repaid. His eye fell upon the last admonition to him and he bit his lip anxiously.

“Oswald won’t be happy about us playing chicken with the guards.”

“ ~~Not at first,~~ ” Riddler agreed. “ ~~But we have to do it if we’re ever to prove he doesn’t need to worry so much about us. And we do ultimately want to get back on equal terms. He’ll need to let us take some risks.~~ ”

“Equal terms,” Ed muttered, thoughts again returning to everything Oswald had done for him over the years. “He literally brought us back from the dead. Not sure how we can equal that.”

“ ~~By giving him the life he dreams of.~~ ” Riddler bent down, hands flat to the sheets so he was eye level with Ed. “ ~~No-one else can give him that. Once we’re out of here we’re going to shower our Little Bird with all the love and devotion he could ever want.~~ ”

“Yes.” He twisted about to retrieve the biscuit tin sat by his bedside and popped the lid off. Taking a moment to inhale the sweet aroma he plucked a piece out and contemplated it. “I shall bring him fresh baked goods every day. Tell him in as many ways as possible that he is beautiful. Never miss an opportunity to say how much I love him. Make him feel like he’s the most sublime creature on Earth.”

The words brought a smile to Riddler’s face and he tilted his chin to indicate the bedside table again.

“ ~~I’m not the one you should be telling,~~ ” he pointed out.

A glance showed Ed that there was a page of the infirmary’s own paper supply laid out for him and he suddenly remembered he would be entitled to an extra dispatch this week. A courtesy for inmates to confirm their health to any loved ones. With a grin he gratefully snatched it up to begin his love letter.

_Dearest Oswald,_


	7. Chapter 7

Getting into the guard room should not have been possible at all. Supposedly, one stayed put while the other ambled round a carefully laid route to check everything inside was secure. Then they switched and whoever’s turn it was to patrol the grounds went out on their own prescribed route. However, because they enjoyed gossiping together, and because neither wanted to do any extra walking, they staggered their rounds to overlap. This meant that while there were periods with both guards present, there was also a window of opportunity when neither were there.

Still it wasn’t without its risks. He had to dodge the cameras on the way there and then stay concealed while he awaited the office to empty. To get the maximum time within the office to scour for information he had to move as soon as the second guard got out of sight which meant moving with utter stealth. It wasn’t a skill he’d really had much time to practice but he was at least equipped with soft soled slippers. The really dangerous part, he knew, would be timing his exit.

But that was a later concern and he didn’t pay it any mind as he focused on slipping inside the room as quickly as possible.

“Right,” he whispered to himself as he cast his gaze around briskly. “What do we have?”

A clipboard on the desk drew his attention first and he briskly flicked through the pages. It appeared to be a list of inmates with safety reminders. He scanned through a few – Helzinger, the Tweeds, Tetch, Crane, Valeska, and Edward himself of course – but asides from confirming who was currently in residence it didn’t tell him anything he couldn’t have guessed.

“ ~~The computer,~~ ” Riddler prompted him.

Ed didn’t grace it with a response. It would have been his next target anyway. Sitting himself in the worn chair he quickly tapped a key to stop the screensaver and was momentarily nonplussed as no password prompt appeared.

“ ~~Idiots.~~ ”

He found himself nodding agreement even as he briskly surveyed what he was seeing. Clearly the guards had not considered locking the PC in their absence but that at least saved him time. The central window was displaying a solitaire game and Ed resisted the urge to move the obvious column across. Instead he dropped his eyes to the bar at the bottom of the screen where a familiar mail icon stood out.

Clicking it brought up the internal secure mail server between Arkham and Blackgate.

“ ~~Seriously? Does no-one have any concept of security?~~ ”

The open message was a rather dull newsletter celebrating some noteworthy guard for handling what sounded like a rather minor dispute with a calm and collected demeanour. A glance at the subject headings indicated this was a regular newsletter that went round and Ed clicked on a few others to see much the same drivel. Clearly it was distributed by the powers that be in an attempt to buoy up morale. Ed recalled much the same thing from the noticeboards back when he worked in the GCPD. Some things never changed it seemed.

“ ~~What about that one?~~ ”

Even without further clarification it was obvious which message Riddler meant. Just visible now he’d scrolled further was one headed “odds or evens”. It was a disingenuous title suggestive of the sweepstakes that had been illicitly run by the corrupt cops of his past. Ed opened it without hesitation. Then his eyes widened incrementally and his mouth dropped open as he read faster and faster, further and further.

It was a detailed account of a coup in Blackgate in which inmates bound together to overthrow the iron grip Penguin currently held. There was a recitation to begin with of who was aligned to whom, in some instances explaining why the loyalty was held. Ed was dismayed to read of how few people Oswald had to support him but enraged as the sender callously commented it was more than a freak like him should expect.

It then switched into an explanation of how the operation was put into practice, utilising a lure in the mess hall of promised trades of rations to catch Penguin off guard. Then it would be akin to a re-enactment of the death of Caesar. A tiny part of Ed’s mind allowed the comparison to the ancient deity, albeit thinking Augustus would have made a better comparison, but the majority of his mind was crashing again.

Had the time wasted in the infirmary delayed him too long in uncovering this in time to save Oswald? If he’d been stronger before would he have had more advanced warning to alert him to the danger? Was Oswald even now lying hurt and beaten so far away from Ed’s tender care? Or could it have led to an even worse fate?

He was vaguely aware that he was beginning to hyperventilate when an all too familiar face shoved itself before him to glare.

“ ~~It might not have happened yet,~~ ” Riddler insisted, neatly interrupting Ed’s spiral. “ ~~The e-mail title, odds and evens, they may only be offering bets on a future event. We may still have time. But not if you collapse here and get us caught!~~ ”

Ed nodded shakily and forced himself to inhale deeply, letting his nails press into his palms in a desperate attempt to refocus himself. Riddler was quite possibly right. The guards here never made much secret of their habit of betting on inmate activities and even back in the GCPD the cops would place wagers on criminal clashes.

“ ~~Let’s get out of here.~~ ” Riddler had already shifted to the doorway seemingly to glance our anxiously.

It was nearly an automatic reaction for Ed to follow him but he managed to remember in time to cover his tracks. Diligently he clicked back on the original email, minimised the programme and then hit the control combination to launch the screensaver. That done he hastily followed his counterpart and slipped away down the hallway, not waiting to see how much longer he could have had. That detail could wait for another night. Assuming it was still necessary to source information for Oswald and not too late.

He found it hard to keep his breathing steady and as soon as he was safe in his cell again he allowed himself a few minutes to give in to the anxiety and ride out the attack. Thankfully Riddler gave him space now they were no longer at risk of discovery and Ed finally managed to bring his wayward emotions back under control. Once he was relatively sure he wouldn’t break down he straightened up and faced his other half.

“I really don’t think these medications are helping,” he suggested.

Riddler allowed the shift of blame and instead indicated the paper awaiting Ed’s words.

“ ~~Make sure you tell him every detail we saw. All the names. The precise plan as laid out there.~~ ”

Ed nodded, glad of the clear instruction, and licked his lips as he went to start detailing everything. The diligent copying of information was calming for a while, probably aided by the dim light that meant he could scarcely read the words as they left his pen, creating a sense of relief within him. Yet as he concluded with the outcome of the coup, the deposal of Oswald, he found his emotions threatening again and his words changed course abruptly.

He filled the rest of the page in ever decreasingly sized words and narrower lines with desperate pleas for Oswald to be well. His hope that this warning would not come too late. The fervent wish that he might finally be of use and start repaying some of the debt he owed. It left him barely enough space to sign his name but that was irrelevant.

Having done all he could, and exhausted both from the stress of his excursion and the emotional battering his spirit had taken, he finally curled up on his narrow bed and wrapped his arms securely round his pillow. Feeling his eyes fall shut he pressed his face into the softness and prayed he’d still get the chance to hold Oswald like this one day.


	8. Chapter 8

After Oswald’s last communication, Edward had not heard a word from him. It was the longest interval he’d had to endure from the other man and he was struggling not to give in to anxiety because of it. Rationally he knew that Oswald had most likely chosen not to write again until he had explicit permission from Ed to continue their correspondence. And given that Ed’s last two letters had been mailed out together, Oswald would not have received confirmation of that before also receiving word about the coup.

“ ~~Assuming he didn’t find out about that first another way.~~ ”

Edward’s lips twisted irritably. There was nothing to be gained hypothesising on the worst case scenario. It was too distressing and offered nothing useful for him to do. Far more likely was that Oswald was simply busy re-exerting his authority at Blackgate, either due to his own discovery of the plot or Edward’s forewarning. He just had to try and be patient while he awaited news.

He occupied himself in the meantime utilising the other information he’d gleaned from his midnight flit to the guard’s room. Not that he didn’t already have most of the inmates round his little finger but now he knew there were others more on his level here and he found ways to communicate with them. Clearly the doctors were staggering their recreation time to ensure the more noteworthy criminals didn’t cross paths. Yet it was easy enough once he knew they were here to arrange messages they could pick up.

Nothing much, and nothing incriminating really, but within a few days he’d managed to establish rapports with the Scarecrow and Mad Hatter. The key to winning them round seemed to be as much in giving them a way to correspond together as much as engaging with him but that was alright for now. Jeremiah Valeska was proving unresponsive to any form of communication Edward tried and he pondered on the cause for that. He knew there’d been some sort of accident before he was brought here. Did that relate to his silence now?

Having such occupations helped keep him focused but he remained on edge. Every day when the guard did her rounds with the mail Edward couldn’t help but track her movements anxiously, feeling the pit open once again in his stomach when he was passed by. Until finally, they stopped at his cell.

“Nygma. Mail. Step back from the bars.”

Despite vibrating with the desperation to dart forward and grab the letter from her hands, Ed forced himself to stay the required distance away. Riddler meanwhile snapped ineffectively at her until finally the letter was slid across the floor to him and they both fixated on it.

Edward dropped to his knees and grabbed it up, recognising Oswald’s untidy hand in the address but still not trusting the implication. He might have written that at any time after all. When he unfolded the page to see the same familiar scrawl he felt an easing in his heart. He was still capable of writing at least. That ruled out the fear that had been haunting the back of his mind since first seeing that dreadful email.

Eyes not leaving the writing he staggered backwards to sit on the bed all but devouring the words on first reading. A laugh of relief and pleasure escaped him briefly as he registered everything was alright. Oswald was not only alive but _thriving_. And still so very _very_ fond.

Lowering it to his lap he struggled to inhale properly and found tears leaking from his eyes. Lifting one arm he awkwardly wiped them away on his sleeve before pressing his face into the material to hide an unconscious sob.

“ ~~Those yobs are no match for our Little Bird.~~ ”

He lowered his arm to meet Riddler’s equally relieved expression albeit expressed with a devilish grin. For a minute they shared the moment between them. Oswald loved them. Oswald was alive. And, more to the point right now, Oswald appreciated their usefulness.

With a sigh Ed turned his face back to the words in order to take them in more carefully. The first part was an exciting recital of how Oswald had foiled the planned overthrow of his rule. His thrill was clear through every roughly scratched word and Ed smiled to imagine the gesticulation he’d likely have indulged in if he were there in person. He felt an undeniable pride in the description of his actions as well. Memories of all the times he’d been privileged to see Oswald unleashing his fury leant a warmth that permeated every aspect of him.

It was the next part that truly sent a hot flush of pleasure through him however.

_Once again you show that I truly would be lost without you._

Ed felt his heart melt all over again with love for Oswald as he practically burbled over with praises for Ed’s skill and daring in uncovering such information. His confidence soared with the acknowledgment of his prowess and brilliance. Instead of chastising him for taking such risks, Oswald seemed inclined to censure himself for ever doubting Ed’s ability.

“ ~~We’re of value to him.~~ ” Riddler’s lips curled into a pleased smirk.

“He knows we’re not going to fail him.” Ed couldn’t help his sigh as that weight lifted from his shoulders.

“ ~~He’ll entrust us with more of his thoughts now.~~ ”

It was obvious from the continuation of the letter that was true. Oswald was explaining in far more detail just how this scheme had gained traction without his realising. The names Ed had only memorised to pass on to Oswald now became actual people who he could envisage and begin to understand. The links of grievances and ambition that brought them to this point made a sort of sense, albeit still in vague abstract terms. But it was indicative of how willing Oswald was now to share his problems instead of shielding Ed from them.

Unconsciously Ed began cataloguing a few questions he thought still needed answering. Nebulous points that may or may not be of importance in Oswald’s new rein. Most of the instigators had been crushed under heel but Ed worried Oswald’s open and forgiving nature might be being abused by some nefarious individuals.

“ ~~We have something else to offer as well now,~~ ” Riddler interrupted his thoughts with his own idea. “ ~~Crane and Tetch would make useful allies for him. We can act as a go-between.~~ ”

“He worked with them before didn’t he?” Ed frowned. “I’m not sure it ended well.”

“ ~~All the more reason for us to intercede on his behalf. Advocate the benefits of such a powerful connection to them. After all, they don’t have Jerome to guide them anymore do they?~~ ”

“Yes. Organise a sort of united underground connection of criminals.”

Ed reclined himself on the bed as he gave his mind over to the concept, feeling calm now he had the assurance of Oswald’s continuing prosperity and a direction for his own activities.

“Common ground could be the animosity we all have for the GCPD.”

“ ~~Yeah.~~ ” Riddler sat and laid out beside him, despite there being no physical room for him to do so and Ed could feel the shift as they merged. “Or more specifically Jim Gordon.”

A brief frown crossed his brow at the hated name, recalling only too vividly how he’d barely waited for Oswald to heal from his eye injury garnered while defending the city – specifically Ed but neither of them would have been there except for Oswald’s loyalty to Gotham – before hauling them off to their respective interments.

Momentarily he wondered what his life might have been like if he’d let Oswald walk away that time. Taken the treasure and the submarine and left this pile of rubble which he cared nothing about. Bleak, was his only conclusion. Lonely and regretful. He’d barely stopped at the time to think about why he’d followed on Oswald’s heels, telling himself Gotham was his home and never considering _Oswald_ was his home. He’d have been equally happy to leave the city if Oswald had wanted. Wherever he went, Ed would follow unhesitatingly.

So even though he might be incarcerated now, locked up with madmen and imbeciles, he could never regret his past because it had brought him this. He stroked his fingers tenderly over the signature.

_All my love,_   
_Ever yours,_   
_Oswald_

And that was worth more to him than anything.


End file.
